


arrested.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 01:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Fandral illegally visits when Loki is under house arrest.Loki cannot help but be charmed.





	arrested.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Please don’t kiss me again.” + dashingfrost

“Fandral,” Loki says defeatedly, and Fandral offers him a winning smile from his place on Loki’s balcony, a bouquet of lavender and heather in his arms. The smell is intoxicating, thick and floral upon the air, and it is all Loki can do not to put out his hands and demand he hand over the bunch of flowers with immediacy. “You mustn’t be here.”

“Ah, but I  _am_ here, my prince,” Fandral murmurs. His expression turns quietly serious, and he steps into Loki’s quarters, over the boundary Loki cannot cross himself. 

“I am under house arrest, Fandral, for crimes against Asgard and Midgard alike,” Loki reminds him.

“And if it is not too bold of me to say, my darling, you look more arresting than ever.” He holds out the flowers, and Loki is weak, having been kept inside for so many  _months_  now. He snatches them from Fandral’s hands, bringing them to his mouth and nose and inhaling, taking in the wondrous scent of  _spring_  on Asgard.

“Fandral,” Loki whispers, looking up from the haze of sweet purples. “You  _mustn’t_. You will be arrested - or worse!”

“I  _am_ arrested,” Fandral says.

“You just made that joke.”

“It was a good one: I saw fit to replicate it.” Fandral takes a fluid step closer, and he cups Loki’s cheek. His touch is gentle, delicate, and Loki feels he may well shatter into pieces - how long has it been, since  _anybody_  touched him so sweetly? How many years in the void? “They won’t keep you locked up here forever, you know, my love.”

“Oh?” Loki asks, dryly. “And why shouldn’t they?”

“Well, for one, it is far too cliché. A beautiful prince, locked up in a tower…” Loki laughs. Despite himself, despite it all, despite the terror that Fandral will be caught here, that he would be attacked by the guard, despite Loki’s guilt and disgust and self-loathing, he laughs, and it is the most relief he has experienced in months. Fandral’s smile is soft, and full of affection.

“There,” he murmurs. “That’s all I wanted.” He leans up, catching Loki’s mouth in a kiss, and Loki gasps against the soft press of his lips, leaning into it. The flowers are crushed between their chests, sending up their lovely scents, but Loki cannot bring himself to care - for over a year, now, he has yearned to be back in Fandral’s arms, and here he is, here he–

Loki pulls away.

“You  _mustn’t_ ,” he repeats, desperately. “Please don’t kiss me again, Fandral, if you do, I– I will be too weak to do anything but reciprocate.”

“And that is all I wish for,” Fandral replies. “Tell me one thing, Loki, and tell me true. Did you truly  _desire_  to rule Midgard? Was that your motivation for your invasion?”

“Yes,” Loki says, his tone as resolute as he can make it. Fandral laughs.

“An answer given too quickly, my darling: your deception has grown rusty in your detention here.” Loki sets his jaw, and Fandral touches his chin with his thumb, tracing the line of his jaw. “I don’t pretend to understand you, Loki: you know I would never so much as attempt to. But I do  _love_  you, no matter your crimes, nor your… There are parts of your invasion that make so little sense to me. I believe, I have  _faith_ , that your invasion was something you did under duress. Your plan was stupid, showed no tactical understanding… Tactical understanding I have been aware of in every chess game you have ever beaten me at.”

There is a discomfort twisting in Loki’s belly, and he takes a step back. “You must go,” he says softly.

“Ah, must, must,” Fandral murmurs, taking the flowers delicately from Loki’s hands and throwing them onto the dresser: lilac and violet petals fall onto the ground, but he is uncaring. “You know what I  _must_  do?”

“What?” Loki asks, slightly breathlessly.

“Kiss you,” Fandral says, and Loki cannot help the way he  _crumbles_  as Fandral kisses him hard once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
